Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Dear Mother

(Note: No, I do not need to get on anti-depressants. This is actually the start of an idea for a novel)

You did nothing wrong. I've carried around this piece of paper for days wondering how to start it. This is the only way that feels right. You raised me, invested your time in to me, and to see 20 years of your life's work fail must do nothing but leave that deadly question: what did I do wrong?


This was inevitable. I know it has never felt that way. I went to a good school, got a good job, and just got married! You and aunt Terry alwyas talk about how I bright my outlook on life is. I've hid my emotions well. Part of it has been because I love you all and I know my pain wouldn't just be my pain. Most of it is becuae I just wouldn't be able to explain why. Do you understand? My whole existence is a marathon on an internal hell I can't seem to climb out of and for he longest time I had no clue why.

Now I do.

Attached to this letter is Dr. Milligan's diagnosis. There is an imbalance in my brain that makes it hard for me to feel joy and easy for the other way around. This is not becuase of drugs or upbringing, just a random disorder that clicked in to my world sometime around sophormore year. Nothing helps. Believe me, I've tried. Milliford doesn't agree with my way of solving it, but he admits there's nothing else I can do.

This is selfish of me, I know. I've thought about that, too, and so I've made arrangements. You had me young and lord knows you sacrificed everything for me, so I want you to have the chance to see your only son become a man, have a family of his own, be happy.

I found someone who's willing to help. Her name is katrice, and she's extraordinarily become an integral part of my life throuh this process. She's attended my sessions, and i've lead her to believe I will be okay. But the arrangements have been made. She's pregnant with my child and when he's born, he'll be yours. His name is Michael. My condition is not genetic, but rather an anamoly, and katrice's family's medical history is spotless. You're still young and I hope you can come to think of him as your own. Come to think of him as me. I already do. My second chance.

I don't think even I can imagine the pain this is causing you. But I've done everything to make sure you will feel happiness again one day, something I just cannot do. Please take my gift and know that, if anything, I am finally happy.

To second chances,

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